When I first moved to Cambridge, the rhythms of returning to classes in the fall were still fresh in my system, so the flood of students in August/September felt not only natural, but comforting. Harvard Square was still Harvard Square. Cheapo Records was the coolest music store in the world. The city was an Eden for the young. (Somehow it didn’t get to me that it was a lot more crime-ridden than it is today.)
I’m amazed at what a get-offa-my-lawn type I’ve decayed into. I hate the freakin’ traffic insanity that ruins timing on drives. I hate the Jaywalkin’ Jackasses thick on the ground everywhere.
But what I want to really talk about is a strange perception phenomenon. For a long time, into my early 30s, the students looked like younger and younger peers to me. Then suddenly one autumn — bang! — they looked like kids. Eventually almost children. This year — wham! — the parents started to look like kids. Guess my senses have gone into full senior mode.